said. "What--have I done?"

It sounded like the question of a man suddenly awaking from a wild
dream. She felt the arms that held her relax their grip. She knew that
he was looking at her with eyes that held once more the light of reason.
And, oddly, that fact affected her rather with dismay than relief.
Burning from head to foot, she turned her own away.

She felt his hand pass over her shamed and quivering face as though to
assure himself that she was actually there in the flesh. And then
abruptly--so abruptly that she tottered and almost fell--he set her
free.

He turned from her. "God help me! I am mad!" he said.

She stood with throbbing pulses, gasping for breath, feeling as one who
had passed through raging fires into a desert of smouldering ashes. She
seemed to be seared from head to foot. The fiery torment of his kisses
had left her tingling in every nerve.

He moved away to the table on which he had flung his revolver, and stood
there with his back to her. He was swaying a little on his feet.

Without looking at her, he spoke, his voice shaky, wholly unfamiliar.
"You had better go. I--I am not safe. This damned fever has got into my
brain."

She leaned against the door in silence. Her physical strength was coming
back to her, but yet she could not move, and she had no words to speak.
He seemed to have reft from her every faculty of thought and feeling